One Broken Heart Too Late
by She-Elf4
Summary: Dumbledore made a huge mistake. Is it too late to rectify it? New chapter: Harry gets an unexpected visitor. I own nothing.
1. Default Chapter

PART ONE  
  
Voldemort walked through the house. The screams of his latest victems filled the air as the Death Eaters tortured them. A small smile crossed the Dark Lord's face. How they were begging for mercy! Voldemort was about to end that hope.  
He entered the room and saw the wizard husband and his wife. "Thought you'd try to stop me, did you?" He said softly, addressing the man. "Well, your family will die before your eyes for it. Bring the little girl!" The man gasped as his daughter was carried, unconsiouse, into the room. "Ennervate," Voldemort said, and the little girl opened her eyes. The Death Eater put her down. There was a moment of silence. Suddenly, the woman started sobbing.  
"Don't you hurt my mother!" the little girl screamed. Voldemort leaned down to her.  
"Don't worry, you won't see your mother hurt by me," he said sweetly. He went and sat down in a nearby chair and lifted his wand, pointing it at her. "Crucio!" He said, and the little girl screamed. He raised his wand for a moment. Before anyone could stop her, she ran forward and put her hands on either side of Voldemort's head.  
The power that came out of her hands poured into Voldemort's mind. He screamed in unbearable pain as a long-needed healing started, washing away the shadows lurking always in his thoughts. The Dark Lord twisted and coiled, trying to get out of the girl's grasp. His hate coiled in upon itelf, betrayed by his own capacity to deal agony. Because to be able to cause suffering, one must know it first. Therefore, the ultimate horror is exposure, the tearing off of the mask he wore to hide it.  
The Death Eaters stared in shock as their master squirmed, trying to throw off the little girl. They had never seen anyone get the better of him like this before. In their shock, not one of them went to help their master, for which they would eventually be very sorry for. Most of them, however, didn't really care about him, just his power.  
The little girl's parents, however, glowed with pride. They had known of the girl's healing gift for a few years now, but never had they imagined that she would be able to use it against Voldemort. They were still sick with fear, however, that one of the Death Eaters or the Dark Lord himself would break out of their trance and kill her. She was the light of their life. They didn't know what they would do without her.  
"Y-you fools!" Voldemort said weakly. "Kill her!" Not one of the Death Eaters mouved. "O-or I'll kill you!" he added, with no effect.  
As the girl continued to work, Voldemort gathered his strength together, and pushed her away. She stumbled across the room. Voldemort raised his wand twards the Death Eaters. "Avada kedavra!" he said. A vague green mist escaped his wand, hovered for a moment, and then dissipated. Exausted and partially-healed, he was unable to fight, and unable to hide. He did the one thing he could do. He ran.  
  
After apparating as far away as he could and remain hidden, Voldemort collapsed to the ground. He moaned. His head was a whirlwind of painfull memories unbearably flashing through his mind. In his drained state, he couldn't even begin to try to repress long-held-back shame that now flooded his conciosness. He moaned again from the sheer pain of it. Then, for the first time in fifty years, he cried.  
After a while, he began to wonder where he was going to go. He obviously couldn't go back to the Death Eaters. They had seen him in a weakened state. He had failed to kill them when he tried. It would be the end of two forevers before he went to Dumbledore.  
Unable to sit still any longer, Voldemort began to run. He ran aimlessly, with no other purpose than to exaust himself. To try to rid himself of the images of someone betraying him, and him turning to the Dark Arts. He tried to outrun voices of victems screaming at him for mercy, just as he was unable to scream when he had been completely helpless. He tried to escape the memory of Harry, the person he tormented most. And of Dumbledore, who still saw him as a person. And the whole hurricane of emotions tearing through his mind.  
When he finally stopped, he was outside number four, Private Drive. He had never been able to get inside this house. The house he knew held Harry Potter. The bane of his existence. The one he knew he had took the most from. The one who had never done anything to him. The one whome everyone loved. Harry was the one who Voldemort knew was destined to kill him. He knew this because, despite what Dumbledore believed, Harry was exactly like him. Harry WAS him, before he became the Dark Lord. Gathering up his remaining strength, Voldemort used all of his power to apparate into Harry's bedroom. 


	2. a visit from an old friend

Harry woke up to a loud cracking sound. He looked up to find Voldemort across the room. He started. "I-I must be dreaming! You can't come in here!" he said in shock.  
"Yes. This is a dream," Voldemort answered. He moaned, his head in his hands, and sank to the floor. Harry stared.  
"What is wrong with you?" Harry asked, unable to help himself.  
"The memories...Too many...I hate him..." Voldemort murmured, as if unaware of Harry. Harry continued to stare. This had to be a dream. If Voldemort were really here, he would have killed Harry by now. Voldemort looked up at Harry. "Why YOU? It should have been ME! I HATE HIM!" Harry was totally lost.  
Suddenly, Harry's mind was full of painfull memories that didn't belong to him. He saw a young boy at an orfanage. An adult was roughhandling him, and he was crying. Then the boy, older now, was getting hit across the face by the same adult. Then, getting discriminated at Hogwarts because he was a Slytherin. Moaning Myrtle falling down dead. Getting punished by Dumbledore for retaliating against that discrimination. Arguing with Dumbledore because it wasn't fair. Begging the Headmaster to let him stay the summertime too. The adult from the two other memories of the orfanage dragging a verry young Tom into a feild. Then, with the huge sence of shame that pemiated the whole thing growing mountainouse, the memories were abruptly cut off.  
"NO! You can't see! St-stay out!" Voldemort cried. He put his head in his hands again, as if that could keep Harry out.  
Harry looked at Voldemort, pity growing in him. Something strange had happened to Voldemort. Something that forced him to relive all these painfull memories. Memories he didn't want to relive, let alone let anyone see. Harry wondered what made it happen.  
Without warning, Voldemort dissapeared with a small crack, and Harry started. He sat staring at the place where Voldemort had been for a moment, then he laid back down. He was awake for over an hour after that, wondering what that was about. When he fell asleep, he had strange dreams about what he had seen in Voldemort's mind.  
Harry went down to breakfast when he next woke up. When he walked into the kitchen, everyone glared at him. His unkle roughly grabbed him and shoved him at an inconsiquential breakfast of a lump of cheeze and some stale bread. He ate quickly. Just as he was about to leave, his unkle said, "Write those freaks today and tell them you're fine."  
"There not freaks. There my friends," Harry replied. Vernon smacked him across the face.  
"There freaks! And so are you!" he yelled. Harry went up to his room to write to Dumbledore. After a couple of tries, it was done.  
  
Dear Dumbledore,  
How have you been? Everything here's been pretty much normal. Something really strange happened last night, though. An old friend we know popped by. I'm not sure if it was a dream or not. Next time I see you, I need to tell you about it. Say hi to all our friends for me, and ask Ron when I will get to come over.  
Harry Potter  
  
After tieing it to Hedwig's leg, he sent her off. He hoped they would write back soon. Or, even better, pick him up. He hoped it would be enough to get their attention without giving anything away if it were intercepted. All he could do was wait.  
  
Dumbledore sat reading Harry's letter. After he finished, he was puzzled. 'an old friend popped by'? Did that mean Voldemort? Yes, he and Harry definately needed to talk. Making his decision, Dumbledore made his way to the kitchen, where the Weasleys were.  
"Sorry to disturb you, but would you mind reading this letter Harry sent to me and tell me what you think about it? And I think it's about time you invite him over," he said upaun entering. Mrs. Weasley took the letter and read it.  
"What does he mean, 'an old friend popped by'? Surely he can't mean- You Know Who?" she asked, handing the letter back to Dumbledore.  
"That's what I thought. We need to talk to him. Obviously, he's not hurt. I'll send you and Arther to go and get him," Dumbledore answered.  
  
That night, as Harry rested after a long list of chores, he hered Hedwig tapping at the window. Exited, he got up and flung open the window. Seeing a reply tied to his leg, he pulled it off and tore it open. It was from Ron.  
  
Dear Harry, We were all a little confused by this old friend. Dumbledore wants to talk to you about it. Anyway, Hermiony is over here at the Burrow, and we'd like you to come, too. Ask you're relatives tonight. If they say yes, we'll be there tomorrow at noon. If they say no, we'll be there at noon anyway.  
Ron  
  
Harry went downstairs when his relatives called him down. "We've already eaten. Your dinner's there." His aunt pointed to a plate of steamed cabbage and a glass of water.  
"Um, one of my friends wrote to me and was wondering if I could come over to his house for the rest of the summer," Harry said as he ate.  
His aunt and unkle looked at each other. If they said no, those freaks would think they were mistreating the boy. "If you tell them where you got that bruis on your face, I'll make your life hell next summer," Vernon said. Harry knew this was as close to a yes as he would get. He hurried up to his room and wrote another letter to Ron.  
  
Dear Ron, My aunt and uncle said it would be fine (more or less. They're not always that polite) for you to come. I'm looking forward to seeing all of you again.  
Harry  
  
Harry pulled out his picture book and looked at his pictures. For the first time in his life, he was half way greatfull to Voldemort. If he hadn't come by or sent him a dream or whatever, Harry knew he wouldn't be going to the Burrow to see his best friends. When he fell asleep, it was in anticipation of going to see his friends. 


End file.
